


Stand Up

by TheEarlyKat



Series: Warden Leverette [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Levy finally gets a leg to stand on, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarlyKat/pseuds/TheEarlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leverette pays a visit to Wade's Emporium</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand Up

Leverette did not like to have all his eggs in one basket. He learned from experience that a large clutch attracted unwanted attention and even the basket watched was too much of a temptation for foxes. They were sneaky and clever beasts, foxes, able to weasel their way unseen to fill their stomachs to bursting with their unearned spoils and Leverette had several large and clever foxes trailing after him as of late. He couldn’t watch his basket and chase them away with only one good foot under him. The blacksmith at Lothering offered him a shake of his head and a new cane to replace his notched one if the Ser caught his meaning. A shop in Redcliffe whittled something better and had a tanner make a halter to wrap around his knee and keep the stick in place. Every step sent a fresh sliver into his skin but they were the first true steps since losing the limb. Leverette oiled it and stored it in a dry pack when he could but wood was still wood and the weather bit into it as much as the beetles did. His replacement snapped from the rot before he reached Denerim and he was sent back to leaning heavily on his staff.

The Blight could not be ended single-handedly, let alone on one foot. The Archdemon would not pity him and give him the first strike out of pity. The Grey Warden Order could not be strengthened when those that were left were limping. Leverette’s eggs were gobbled up and the rest could fit in the palm of his hand, let alone their own basket. The Emporium the trader at the market pointed him too was his last chance.

He couldn’t settle for wood again. The ragged end of his knee had been carefully tended to when the wound was still fresh and the slivers tore the stitches open. There was risk of infection with the way wood rotted and housed a number of worms and insects but he wouldn’t have to settle for it this time.

Drake scales clinked like silvers in the bag tossed over Zevran’s shoulder. They might as well have been for the price they fetched, both in coin and in opportunity. Worked properly, the scales would not rust nor dent for the long length of their lifespan. It was their longevity and resistance that Leverette needed.

The shop was, for its renown, difficult to find. Set in the back of the market it looked to be another cottage hidden among the row of homes, the buildings tilting in the weight of those stacked one atop the others. The Emporium was shorter, and a fat stack of heavy smoke rose from a chimney. The sign was a simple carving of a name. Zevran eased open the door with his hip and Leverette took the moment to prop himself up against the wall and draw in a steadying breath, a prayer on his lips on the exhale. He pushed off and followed the elf inside.

Soot painted the walls black and metal shavings coated the floor. A scraggly broom sat in a corner aside snapped handles, a memory of others that shared the fate of attempting to keep the mess in check before leaving the floors to their demise. A wide open forge sat in the back of the building behind racks of supplies and a counter separated the work room and the foyer. A man with a frown as large as his hands gave him a cursory glance. Zevran sauntered over to him and leaned his elbows on the counter.

“My, what a big frown you have.”

The man swatted the wandering hands away. “Are you here for armor?”

“Not quite-”

The man held Zevran’s hands away with one arm and slid a stack of parchment out towards Levy with the other. “Check off what you require and what materials you would like along with measurements.”

Leverette took the offered forms and flipped the page, biting his lip. “I’m not sure if what I’m…looking for would be listed.”

The man’s frown deepened and Leverette cringed at the patient breath he drew in. “Write down your requirements, then.”

“And the material, too? I have drake scale and that doesn’t seem-”

“Drake scale?” The repeat came from somewhere behind the counter and Leverette jumped. The staff propped beneath his arm clattered in surprise and he nearly tumbled forward in the scramble to both catch it and keep hold of the sheaf of parchments. Zevran took the pages and Leverette held onto his staff tightly. “Do tell me you said drake scale.”

The man behind the counter shot a glare his way and Leverette twisted the staff in his hands.

“I-I…did?” An older man with a beard sprang up from behind the shelves and Leverette had to fight to keep upright again. “Is-is that a problem?”

“Yes,” the man behind the counter snapped at the same time the other shouted, “Maker, no,” and they both had to fight for space at the desk when he all but tripped over his own feet in a rush to get closer to the pair. Zevran dug out the drake scales and handed them over. The man cooed with every angle he turned them.

“Wade-”

Wade, the smith Levy supposed, leaned over the counter. “You must let me make something with these.”

Levy swallowed an uneasy chuckle. “Well, ah, that was the point in coming this way. You see-”

Wade pushed himself away with a cry. “The things I could do with these! A fine chest plate, a shining great sword - oh - a shield that would never see a scratch on it.” Zevran raised his brows and Leverette passed his staff between his hands, mouth pressed into a tight line to keep his complaint locked up until he found a chance to voice them. Wade turned on his heel, eyes bright. “Well, what will it be? My crafts are as limited as my imagination and I assure you it is expansive.” The man at the counter groaned and went back to frowning at his papers. “Oh, Herren just doesn’t understand. A chest plate then? Or a-”

Wade rounded the corner and his excitement trailed off the further his eyes traveled downward. His jaw worked for a moment and the blessed moment of peace broke with a snap of his fingers. “I’ll need your measurements - height, weight, the length and width of you knee, of course. Hand it all over to Herren and come back in three days. Three days!”

Leverette mouthed an apology to the man at the counter, scribbling away at the parchments, and found himself saying the words again when he returned after the promised three days. He withstood Wade’s chatter as best as he was able, smiling and nodding when he was spoken to and thinking about Herren’s frown when he was not. For all his talk, however, the smith was good. Fantastic. He’d bolted the leather wrappings of the halter to the reformed drake scales to make it all one piece - and what a piece it was.

It was heavier but sturdy. He’d have to get used to the weight of it before he could fully wear it on their day-long treks but it wouldn’t fall apart in harsh weather or harsher battles. It didn’t rub against his skin in any unpleasing way and with some padding the chill from the metal would ease.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Levy murmured when Wade finished strapping it on.

“With gold,” Herren snapped. Levy flushed and Wade waved the comment off.

“This has been the most interesting thing I have made in my lifetime. Not only a prosthetic but one with drake scales!” He hummed his satisfaction. “If you find any other rare materials you must come by again. I’ll make you something even better.”

“Or, you could have someone else make you something.”

Wade laughed. “Of course not! Who else could do better than me other than me?”

Leverette offered him a chuckle and swung his knee to test the weight of it one more time before standing. The feeling of being upright, wholly upright on both feet with his weight balanced evenly on his torso, had his breath catching. Only months had gone yet the loss was profound now that he had this. “I’ll come back, I assure you.”


End file.
